


Now That You're Gone

by KanraKixystix



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Reality, Force Training, Force Visions, M/M, post RotS, the Jedi are dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23852740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanraKixystix/pseuds/KanraKixystix
Summary: Obi-wan has training to complete in order to achieve immortality in the Force. The first step is to confront his biggest weakness. The problem is that he already has, and that didn't go well the first time. His hopes aren't very high for the second time either. Maybe some lessons can't be learned.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Now That You're Gone

“ _ This training is not for the faint of heart, my dear Padawan _ ,” Qui-Gon Jinn tells the robed man with a frown and a grown in, greying beard firmly and patiently. His arms are tucked tightly in front of him, hands hidden in the long sleeves of his own standard beige robes. 

Obi-wan Kenobi sits perched in the window of his little hole-in-a-rock hut, legs crossed delicately in front of him and blue eyes tired, so very tired. He hasn’t slept well since...well, since the occurrence of unfortunate events on Mustafar. It’s been months, maybe even a year, but it all still feels like yesterday. Time has no more meaning to him. 

“I think I can survive anything at this point, Master,” he replies with dry humor that doesn’t reach his once sparkling eyes. He’s hardly a Padawan anymore, and it was more than a little chastising to hear his former Master regard him as a child when he’d accomplished so much. He tries to convince himself that it has nothing to do with his partiality to hearing his own former Padawan call him Master, even when there was no need for such formality, but the thought alone leaves a warmth in his chest that he denies. 

“ _ That may very well be _ ,” Qui-Gon smiles a little, surely reminded of the sassy learner he used to teach, “ _ but you should prepare yourself all the same _ .” 

Obi-wan knows he should care more about this training. After all, Master Yoda has entrusted him to learn this skill, this feat of immortality and communicating with those who have passed. He’s gotten this far on his own, evident by the conversation between himself and Qui-Gon at current. He should be able to cast aside his feelings and release them into the Force as he always has in the past, but no matter how much time passes, his heart still weighs heavy with grief. With an annoyed expression, he casts a glance at his former Master. 

“Let’s just get on with it, shall we?” he snips, and it’s filled with more aggression than he intends. Qui-Gon, however, simply nods and raises his hand before placing it out between them. 

“ _ In order to live on through the Force, you need to confront your biggest weakness _ ,” he explains in an even tone. “ _ This is your first task in beginning your training _ .” 

Obi-wan gives him a wry smile. He’s never considered himself a weak person. After all, he’s survived the deaths of countless loved ones, lived through the Clone Wars, has made countless errors and lost so much, and still, here he is. 

With a deep sigh, he closes his eyes as Qui-Gon waves his outstretched hand. There’s a single ripple in the Force, and Obi-wan can feel his surroundings mold around him, wisking him away and taking him outside of his little desert hideaway. The feeling is short lived, and the Force is calm once more. He takes several slow breaths, feeling around him, and he screws his features up when there’s nothing to sense. It’s confusing to be sure, but by now he’s come to learn to expect the unexpected. When he thinks that it’s safe, he blinks one eye open, then the other. 

He should be scared, he knows this. There shouldn’t be a smile on his face when he’s greeted with the sight of impossibly blue eyes and dusty brown curls because that man is dead, killed by the dark side. Obi-wan knows this place, though, has been here before. It’s lush greenery, beautiful gardens and architecture have always fascinated him, and he has to admit that he’s rather ensnared by it’s natural beauty. This is Naboo, he knows, but why is he here? Why is  _ he _ here?

The only sound that Obi-wan hears is the beat of his heart slamming against his ribcage as he locks eyes with the other, and before he knows it, he’s suddenly a breath apart from this beautiful man’s lips. 

“I was starting to think that you weren’t going to come,” Anakin’s voice sends a thrill down Obi-wan’s spine, and he finds himself instinctively seeking the pressure of a hand that should be settled on the small of his back. 

“Yet, I always do,” he replies cheekily, falling easily into the role he’d left behind, and he hates that he moves to kiss Anakin Skywalker so willingly. 

A single, soft digit on his lips stops him from bringing their lips together, and Anakin gives him a sad smile. 

“No, you don’t.” 

The green landscapes erupt in flames, and the intricately designed marvels melt around them. Eyes brighter than the bluest sky are tainted sickly yellow and rimmed with blood red. The color haunts Obi-wan with each passing moment, but Anakin’s gaze holds him there against the line of his body. 

“Anakin, please…” Obi-wan shivers, voice pleading with him. 

“Do you remember the promise you made to me?” Anakin’s voice breaks, and Obi-wan tries to ignore that he can feel Anakin tremble. “That night in your bed?” 

Obi-wan does remember. He can never forget, not when the images of their naked bodies sliding together, moaning sinfully and singing love into their bond flash behind his horrified eyes. 

“You promised you’d follow me anywhere,” Anakin weeps, tears rolling down sharp cheeks and it’s Obi-wan’s instinct to pull him close and dry his eyes. 

“No!” he screams and Obi-wan stumbles when Anakin shoves him away. “You did this to me! You promised me forever and now...and now…” 

Anakin coughs violently, enough for Obi-wan to hear the rattle of his bones, then doubles over and sobs. A metal fist clutches his chest as though he would rip his heart straight out of his chest. The irony isn’t lost on him. He feels like he’s done the same thing to himself. 

Obi-wan doesn’t know what to say, not that he can speak even if he did. His shoulders sag, helpless but to watch the one person he loved, still loves more than anything, as he tears himself apart. 

“I loved you,” Anakin whispers through his tears, but it rings out loud and clear in Obi-wan’s ears. “I loved you and you left me.” 

“I love you.” The words tumble from Obi-wan’s lips before he can catch them, and then he screams. “I love you! I still love you, Anakin! Let me make it right! Let me --” 

“It’s too late!” Anakin roars, and he rights himself, swiping a gloved hand over his face in a poor attempt to wipe away his emotions. “You already let me go! Why is that so hard for you to understand?” 

Obi-wan shakes his head as he takes a step closer. He has to reach him, has to tell him that it was all a mistake and he never should have left him alone to fight his darkness. He should have done more, should have fought for him instead leaving his fate in the hands of the Jedi council. 

“I didn’t...I’ll never…” He tries, but words continue to fail him. Funny how when he needs them the most, he can never pull them from his lips. Anakin’s words repeat in his mind. 

_ ‘You already let me go! Why is that so hard for you to understand?’ _

The realization hits Obi-wan like a ton of bricks and he feels the air get knocked from his lungs. This isn’t real. Anakin is already gone, and he isn’t coming back. 

“I had to…” he whimpers shamefully and covers his face with his hands as a whole new wave of guilt and grief wash over him. “I didn’t want to, Anakin.” 

When his hands drop from his face he’s back in his hut again. There is no fire. There is no Naboo. There is no Anakin. 

“Anakin…” 

The deafening sound of a tortured wail cracks through the tiny hut like an explosion and tears through Obi-wan like a knife as he collapses to his knees before Qui-Gon. Gut wrenching sobs shake his body, and he feels hot, sick, like his skin is so dirty that he needs to scrub it off until there is nothing left of him. 

A quiet understanding reaches to him through his former Master, and a gentle hand is placed on his back. 

“ _ Oh, my dear Obi-wan. You loved him so much _ .” 

Defiant, Obi-wan grits his teeth and hisses through his pain. If this is only the beginning of his training, he has to keep going, if not for himself, then for the hope that he’ll see Anakin again when it’s all over. 

“I always will.”


End file.
